The Becoming of Revale Aramon Davenrave
Back to the main story The Becoming of Xamrad In the ancient year 657 of the Fourth Era, a prophecy was fortold by the First Starborn about the vampire lord Ferastuno. In the 666th year His death awaits, Killed shall be the lord Ferastuno. Most men thought it was impossible for a vampire to die. Ferastuno knew that wasn’t true: the only way for a vampire to die is to be killed by a voidling, but at that time, very little people believed in the excistance of the void. Ferastuno did: he was highly intelligent and tried to be a wise and good man, even though the people feared him for what he was: a vampire, feeding on the blood of, in his case, criminals. Ferastuno knew that, but couldn’t do anything about it. And now with this prophecy, he knew he had to find a succesor soon. On a late afternoon when the sun didn’t break through the clouds all day, Ferastuno went for a walk through his castle’s garden to think about the prophecy. He owned a huge, well-kept castle with cells for the captured criminals in the basement, deep beneath the survace. His garden was huge and his land was even bigger: he had an entire forest of his own, which he had called The People’s Forest, because some outcasts of the human society lived there. He didn’t care and just let them live there in peace. Right now he was walking toward his labyrinth- he loved labyrinths, he had built another, smaller castle close to his which excisted almost entirely of a labyrinth- when he got distracted by the singing of a bird, somewhere at the edge of his forest. He walked toward the trees and suddenly stopped when he noticed a boy, who was about fourteen years old, standing next to the tree, staring up at the bird. Ferastuno hid behind another tree and observed the boy while remaining unseen. ‘Are you a Nightingale?’ the boy said. ‘Well, you’ve gotta be. The colours, the song, all are so beautiful.. You have to be a Nightingale.’ The bird stopped singing and flew down to the boy where it landed on his shoulder. ‘What is it, Nightingale? Are you also different, like me?’ The boy kept talking to the bird and it sang back to him. Suddenly, a woman shouted something from far away and the bird flew away. The boy looked at it as it left and the woman shouted again. ‘Revale! Revale where are you?’ Her voice got closer, but the boy didn’t move a muscle. ‘There you are! All the kids are waiting for you to come and help us make dinner!’ The boy, Revale, finally turned towards the woman. ‘You are not my mother, and my parents where rich enough to hire staff, I don’t need to help making dinner! I just need to inherit their property!’ The woman sighed, she clearly had this conversation before. ‘You know that isn’t possible. Your uncle Rescaldon is the true heir, that’s what it said in your parents testament!’ ‘It’s a lie! The testament is false! Rescaldon murdered my parents!’ The woman slapped the boy in his face. ‘Do you even know what you are saying?!’ They continued to argue for a while until the bird started to sing and the boy looked up to it, completely forgetting about his discussion. The woman grabbed the boy by his collar and dragged him away, even though he was just as tall as she was. He didn’t seem to care anymore. Ferastuno stepped away from the tree. He needed time to think over what just happened. A few days later. Ferastuno was sure this had to be a coïncedence with a meaning. The boy was meant to be his new successor, even though he was still too young. Ferastuno decided to follow this Revale to find out more about him. Revale grew up to be a strong man, even though he concidered himself better than others. He was arrogant, but with reason: he was handsome, muscled, used to have rich parents and has sworn to take revenge on his uncle. Ferastuno noticed that Revale had a strange fascination for death and as well as for mythological creatures- he wanted to observe as many as he could. He also knew about the Void and its creatures, he even knew how to recognize one. The only weakness he had was the beautiful singing of birds. Human voices were, in his opinion, ‘not pure enough.’ Nine years passed. Revale now was 21, but still a boy in Ferastuno’s eyes. The year now was 666: the year of the prophecy. All these years, no one had known that the Vampire Lord had been seeking a successor, so when the time came - the 31st of October – everyone was shocked when they heard the orphan Revale scream, a few minutes before midnight, as he was dragged to the castle by the lord himself. Revale screeched, tried to find something to hold on to stop the vampire from dragging him away, but the lord was relentless and dragged the struggling boy into the castle, where he found himself scratching his nails to the slippery castle walls. They went through a door, but Revale barely noticed. ‘You better accept your fate, boy.’ Revale was shocked when he heard the vampire’s voice. It sounded tired and sad, unlike what Revale had expected. He stopped struggling. The vampire let go of him. They were in a small room with a balcony, two sofas and a fireplace. Ferastuno had closed the room’s door and had locked it, with a key he put in his pocket. Revale saw another door, right behind the fireplace. He concidered running through that door, hoping it would lead him to freedom, but he remembered what the vampire had said. Was this his fate? What exactly was he meant to be? A creature like the lord? He looked at Ferastuno’s pale face and with a renewed fascination he followed the lord to the balcony. ‘Will you make me a vampire?’ Ferastuno was seemingly surprised. ‘I am about to die, boy. And I have chosen you to be my successor.’ A grin appeared on Revale’s face. ‘That means I will own all this?’ Ferastuno signed. ‘I do not know when, but at the moment I die, you will be the owner of this all,’ Ferastuno turned around. ‘I have to introduce you to someone before I turn you.’ Ferastuno walked to the hidden door behind the fireplace and Revale followed him. The new room appeared to be a study and library. At a wooden desk at the left wall sat a man. Ferastuno walked to the man and before he could tap him on his shoulder, the man looked up from his work and his laid his eyes upon the boy with a piercing gaze. Revale didn’t move a muscle but stared back into the man’s eyes with a creepy calmth. ‘This man is my companion and shall be yours after my death,’ Ferastuno said. ‘I know what he is.’ Ferastuno looked at Revale. The boy’s calmth and knowledge scared him. Was he truly the one? ‘He is.’ Shocked by the sudden sound of the man’s voice, and the fact that he had read the lord’s mind, Ferastuno was speechless. ‘My name,’ the strange man said, ‘Is not known. You can call me The Author.’ Revale grinned again. ‘Pleased to meet you, Author.’ Ferastuno was able to speak again. ‘Come, Revale, the time is here. Midnight has come.’ Revale followed Ferastuno to the balcony. He saw people standing on the ground, not far from the castle. They where looking at him. He could feel their fear. ‘Tonight,’ Ferastuno said, ‘Shall be known as the Night of the Living Dead, for tonight will be the night for me to turn this young man into the creature I am! He will one day be my successor for the prophecy predicted that death itself will soon come to take me!’ The crowed was shocked, they didn’t know if they could believe what their lord said, for most still thought vampires were immortal in every way. Ferastuno turned towards the boy. ‘This is Revale! My future successor!’ And then he bit the boy and drank his blood, cut himself and let Revale drink his blood, then he broke the poor boy’s neck. Revale was dead. He lied on the cold hard floor for a few minutes when he suddenly opened his eyes. A strong feeling began to take him over: he felt power running through his veins. He stood up and showed the fearful spectators his new, sharp fangs. Then, before Ferastuno could stop him, Revale turned around and grabbed the keys out of Ferastuno’s pocket. ‘Author!’ Revale called. ‘What are you doing boy!’ Ferastuno cried indignantly. The Author stepped onto the balcony and looked at the newborn vampire. Revale ignored Ferastuno and turned to The Author. ‘Kill this man.’ The Author didn’t move a muscle but Ferastuno was heavily shocked. ‘WHAT did you say?!’ Revale still ignored him and said to the Author: 'I know you don't want me to kill you, for you have a purpose in this world you must fulfill, right? You know this is how it is meant to be. You know you cannot die yet.' The Author stared into Revale’s eyes with an inscrutable gaze. Suddenly, he turned to Ferastuno and with his bare hands, he snatched the vampire’s heart out of his chest and smashed it onto the ground. Ferastuno’s eyes stared into the Author’s and it looked like they tried to say: ‘What have you done?!’ Then, he died. Revale grinned and turned to the horrified public that still watched them. 'I am Revale Aramon Davenrave,' on the wall behind him he wrote the first two words of what he said, followed by his initials, 'Ferastuno is dead! The boy you knew as Revale,' the vampire turned around to the wall 'Is DEAD!, The boy puts a big cross through the first word. On the wall it now said: X AM R.A.D. The vampire looks at it with a satified grin before turning back to his people. And then he said: 'I am your new Lord, and you will all know me as XAMRAD!'